Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Case in point, "the long take", which is just film lingo for a scene that continues on for an extended period of time without cutting away. All of the action either happens within the frame, in and out of the frame or the frame itself will travel through or with the action, with no cuts or fades or any edits at all. It doesn't happen in film very often and there is a reason; it take an extreme amount of forethought and creativity to pull off. But its extremely satisfying when it does happens successfully. Its those moments when film, as an art form, begins to transcend its medium and gives you a true, unfiltered portal into a performance or a scene at it's most vulnerable.
If you think about it, about 95% of almost every movie you watch is filled with edits; a cut every few seconds or a fade in and out. The "long take" hearkens back to an age when there was no such thing as editing; when a film was once just one scene, one shot, one window to the world and whatever frame, or perhaps "context", you witnessed the action within, was up to you.
Some examples of films that successfully pull off engaging "long takes"... His Girl Friday...Kill Bill Vol. 1...Goodfellas...Boogie Nights...Carlito's Way...Children of Men...Magnolia...A Clockwork Orange...just to name a few. A good list of 20 of these great long takes, along with video clips of each, can be found here. As I alluded to earlier, I recently saw a "long take" in an fantastic film called The Secret In Their Eyes, (El Secreto de Sus Ojos). Granted, the long take I'm referring to may be dismissed by critics and film buffs because I'm fairly certain some computerized special effects were used to complete the scene. Once you see it you see it, you'll understand what I mean. Thankfully though, there is no point in which special effects are apparent and it all looks completely plausible. On top of that, the whole scene is so creatively imagined that I actually stopped the movie, rewound and watched the scene three times again in awe. The scene begins high in the sky, dives down through the clouds and right into the middle of a thunderous soccer game. The camera travels over the field through the crowds, into the bowels of the complex, and eventually onto the field itself in one long, grand sweeping take that needs to be watch to be appreciated.
Here is a YouTube clip that shows the very beginning of this long take scene:
Monday, November 29, 2010
When you choose what movie theater to go to when watch a film, you are making a choice to support the artist who make the film and the exhibitors who pay an arm and a leg to show you that film. We've all been to a crappy movie theaters in our respective town and the only reason those theaters are still in business is because A) they exhibit films that a large percentage of audiences want to see and B) a large portion of the population surrounding that theater choose to visit that theater when they watch films. The world of cinema economics is a complex topic that I hope to share with you over the course of this blog and the e-magazine, but for now I just wanted to touch upon about the importance of being aware of how our cinema dollars are spent and who benefits. Specifically, I want to talk here about supporting your local film initiatives.
What do I mean by "local film initiatives"? Good question, reader. By local film initiatives, I'm referring to any sort of film related "event" that is put on by local companies, organizations, individuals, etc. For example, recently the Dallas Film Society put together a fundraising dinner in Dallas, where film lovers would get an opportunity to hear an intimate conversation with Robert Duvall. Proceeds from the event went into various programs that the Dallas Film Society actively produce, such as invigorating local students to follow their passion in the film arts. I volunteered to work at the event, to show support for ventures like this one and I was lucky enough to shake Robert Duvall's hand. And as I did, all I could think about was how proud I was for him to know that yes, even in the "red" state of Texas, there are intellectual film lovers who know his body of work.
A months ago, The Herculano & Elida Hernandez Foundation put on their 11th Annual Vistas Film Festival here in Dallas. Now this festival isn't as large at the DIFF, but it has survived throughout some tumultuous years and it showcases films that might not otherwise be seen in this part of the country. I caught several films at the festival and had the opportunity to chat with many of the filmmakers themselves. Being in the midst of that festival, I was once again filled with pride that a scrappy festival such as this one still exists and is unique to our city. However, I was disappointed at the low turnout at some of the screenings and at was a shame that the Q&A for some of the producers and directors was virtually empty. Marketing for the event may have something to do with it, but I was surprised that film students and enthusiasts didn't take advantage of these intimate settings to speak with some prestigious film makers. Heck, I got to talk with the director of "Angels in the Outfield" and heard candid stories from the set of that film; stories that I'm sure are not on any DVD commentary track or any book. These type of priceless moments are only discovered within the communities that events like these create.
I'll be the first to admit that there are a slew of Hollywood blockbusters that I'm looking forward to seeing this holiday season, and more than likely I will be seeing these films at a chain theater (although I always make it a point to visit the independent film theaters like the Angelika or the Inwood theater). Our society has become too familiar with the Hollywood movie experience to totally give it up, and that's okay. But, as a consumer, specifically a consumer of entertainment, it's important that we spread our dollar around to include the filmmakers and organizations around our communities that need our support much more than the big Hollywood boys do. We don't spend all of our money at chain restaurants like McDonalds, do we? No, sometimes we visit the mom-n-pop, hole-in-the-walls in our neighborhoods that serve food that you would never find at a McDonalds. We crave that variety and the quality that can only be found from local passion. The same should be said for our cinematic entertainment. And with the advent of the Internet, there is no excuse to not know what is happening within your local film community. The cinema initiatives in your area depend on the film enthusiasts of that community to forgo their consumption of mass media and partake in the communal nature of enjoying art...at least once in a while.
Tonight I'll be going to Downtown Dallas to see an exhibition of 3D cinema being projected on a large scale. It may be gimmicky, it may be commercial, it may just plain suck. But its sharing a cinematic experience, produced by a local organization, that matters. And when I'm standing outside in the cold tonight, watching light and shadows dance on the wall of a skyscraper, I'm hoping to feel a kinship with all those people, a hundred years ago who stood in nickelodeons and in the back rooms of parlors, experiencing the magic of a new art form that, if nothing else, is bringing people together.
If you live in Dallas, hope to see you there. If you don't live in Dallas, find the nearest cinema event, put on by local people, and watch, discuss and experience.
Show them that the revolution of cinema is starting with you.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
I remember not being too terribly excited to see the film as I walked into the megaplex that day. I took my father and my cousin along with me, neither of whom were Star Wars fans either. As I sat there in the theater and watched the film, trying hard to not snicker at the dated special effects, what mainly dominated my thoughts was one simple notion: I was glad that I was watching this film in a movie theater and not at home on my un-HDTV.
Now I'll say this upfront for all you Star Wars fanatics: Star Wars in a revolutionary film that practically single-handedly created the big budget, special effects extravaganza film genre and it deserves its place in cinema history. But in my opinion, the original Star Wars is one of those films that dates itself and continues, throughout the film, to draw attention to this fact. When you break it down, the actual story at the core of Star Wars is simplistic and extremely predictable; the film was a success at it's initial release not because of it's original storytelling but because it was ambitious in pushing the limits of what grand special effects could do for a simple story. Lucas has balls, that's no doubt, but when watched in hindsight, none but the hardest cored fan can resist from admitting that Star Wars looks almost laughable to today's standards. The cinematic technology hadn't caught up to Lucas's vision yet but he did the best he could with what he had to work with. That he did this was admirable but doesn't necessary make for an enjoyable watching experience today. A film should bring you to the brink of reality and allow you to lose yourself into the world of the film. I'm sure that was possible watching Star Wars in 1977 but despite it's innovation, it was all too obvious in 1997 that the light sabers looked like flat neon sticks.
But the thing about these technological misgivings was that sitting in the theater that day watching Star Wars for the first time...I didn't care about that. I didn't care that the explosions looked stupid or that Darth Vader looked dorky. It was a cinematic experience, enhanced by the dark room of the theater, the booming sound system and the cheers of the other audience members who were clearly Star Wars fans. For me, the lights of the big screen and ambiance of the theater made Star Wars what it couldn't be on the standard definition television screens of the 90s...an enjoyable cinematic experience.
This enjoyment could have only happened in the theater; if I had watched Star Wars for the first time at home, I might not have understood what all the fuss was about. But going to the theater and actually seeing the film as it was intended to be seen made all the difference. This is why I am a huge advocate for seeing a film in a movie theater, when possible. Screw rising tickets prices, lackluster service at the concession stand or sticky theater floors...if a film you missed is being released at the theater and it's a film you wanted to see, then you should make every effort to see it in its intended format.
I often go to Saturday midnight movies at a local theater in Dallas that show a range of different films from years past. I took my girlfriend to see Pulp Fiction one night at this theaters and initially she didn't understand why I would spend money on a movie that I owned at home. But as we enjoyed the movie splashed on the big screen, listening to the killer soundtrack through loud theater speakers and sitting next to several Pulp Fiction fans in the theater who were enjoying the film just as much as I was, I hope she realized that it wasn't about simply watching a movie.
It was about experiencing a movie.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
But until then I have something to say.
I'm noticing a current trend in film trailers that both confuses and aggravates me, and seeing as how I just ran across this weird occurrence in a trailer I saw today for Scott Pilgrim vs The World, I decided to at least get this off my chest.
Has this ever happened to you? You're watching an interesting trailer on television or on the Internet and then all of a sudden, the director or the producer or the movie star pops up on screen and proceeds to tell someone off camera what the movie is about, as if he or she is being interviewed about the movie in some obscure press junket.
Why they #$@!?
Has it come to this? Are we, the "audience" that stupid now that we have to have someone explain our movie trailers to us? Is it necessary to have a member of the production crew tell us exactly what the trailer should be telling us already? It's like watching a commercial about a commercial that we're already watching. It's like having a singer talk over their own song and explain what the song is about. Its like watching an episode of The Real World and seeing whatever media whore they cast that season act out dramatically on camera, then having that same person tell the camera, interview-style, they were "pissed". No shit you're pissed, we just saw you slap another cast member and throw a vase across the room. I think we get the picture.
I don't understand the necessity to include the director and or any other production member in a film trailer. Is it a new clause in entertainment contracts? Do the studios feel that confessional style interviews are what the audience want, seeing as how we've become a society of reality television. Or do they just think we won't get what the film is about from the trailer alone. If this is the case, interviews from the director isn't whats needed...firing of the trailer editor is whats necessary.
But of course, this is most likely the not the case. What most likely is the case is that studios are simply attempting to put a fresh spin on the" movie trailer" by including these clips of production member interviews because it not only makes the film more accessible to a wider audience but it also make the film seem more of an "event" that needs to be experienced because hey, the director is right there telling me to go see it! Now, I applaud the studios for trying to think outside the box when it come to marketing their films, and they ultimately have the right to do this. But the film enthusiasts in me cringes every time I see a trailer that does this. It makes the trailer draw attention to the marketing scheme behind the movie, rather than focusing on the movie itself. A trailer's main purpose is to tease and inform the audience on what a particular film is about, not who made it or why. The why's and the who's is great information to know, but there are already avenues for which the public can seek out that information; it's place isn't in the movie trailer.
I realize that I'm most likely in the minority here but I'm okay with that. I'm sure plenty of people will watch these types of trailers and think nothing of their obscurities. And truth be told, I can endure them, particularly since thankfully I have yet to see an official film trailer use this marketing ploy; I'm talking about the film trailers you see right before a feature presentation at the theater. Thankfully those movie theater trailers stick to their own obscurities and flaws...but that's an article for another time.
What's your opinion on this?
Friday, July 30, 2010
This is a personal entry.
As personal as ones and zeros get.
I found Cinema at a very young age. I had several guides along the primitive road of motion picture discovery; Steven Speilberg, John Hughes, Martin Scorsese, Brian De Palma, Quinton Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, Howard Hawks, Darren Aronofsky, The Coen brother, Christopher Nolan, etc...
I found Cinema during a fascinating time for the art form. I have this satisfaction in common with two of my favorite "guides" through my motion picture education; The Lumiere Brothers.
The Lumiere Brothers found cinema in 1985 because their blood and sweat created cinema itself. A integral component in bringing the cinematographe, one of the very first film cameras, to fruition, the Lumiere reign as technological and innovative pioneers in the early period of cinema's birth. Their 1985 short Sortie des Usines Lumière à Lyon was one of the first recorded images ever to be seen on film the world over. They developed the perforated film stock that would allow film to run through the reels of a camera and projector; a process that is still used today. By showcasing private screenings in public coffee houses in France, the Lumiere brothers in essence created the film festival. It can be argued that The Lumiere Brothers fathered the art form of cinema.
Lumiere, translated into English means light.
Cinema is various shades of light illuminated on a white screen in a dark room.
The audience in that room is illuminated.
But after the film ends, and the lights come back up in the dark theater, is the mind of the audience still illuminated?
We live in a time of fragmented media, of digital communication and an age of limitless knowledge. However, and maybe because we live in this era, we are still sitting in the theater, not noticing the credits role; leaving contemplation behind with the discarded popcorn bag and empty soda cup. We are sitting in that coffee shop in 1985, sipping coffee, glancing at the flickering Lumiere images on the wall and turning back to our table, giving up the opportunity to see beyond the "screen". Now is the time to see the light behind the images; watch it pass from the projectionist booth behind us, filter through the air above us and cast a myriad of colors and shadows on the blank wall.
It's time to let a bit more light into the theater. Enough light to leave an impression on the audience. Enough light to keep the film going. Enough light. Lumeire.
In retrospect, I did not find Cinema. The Lumeire brothers and the other early film innovators who had a dream of capturing the essence of life, they found Cinema. They found it and unleashed it's brilliance of light, interpretation, beauty and infinite possibilities on the rest of the world.
Cinema in turn found me. It found you as well. And now its up to us to open our third eye to the lasting wonders of the world of cinema.
Because cinema has been good to us, it's time to be good to cinema.
It's time to be resourceful and knowledgeable.
Time to be both an intellectual and casual spectator of the motion picture.
To be an alternative viewpoint, to be a faithful critic to this young form of art.
To be a contributor to the work started over a hundred years ago.
To enable the continuance of light.
For those of you who have followed this blog, know that this entry marks the beginning of the venture beyond. Its time for the trailers to end and for the audience to embark on the journey of the feature presentation.
Monday, July 19, 2010
It seems, and I hope I'm not wrong, but it seems that audiences might actually be getting more sophisticated and smarter.
Case in point, Inception opened this weekend to a gross estimate of $60 million, while Disney's The Sorcerer's Apprentice earned a measly $17.3 million in it's first three days. As one online critic put it "Suck it, Bruckheimer".
Now while these two movies were obviously targeted at two different age groups, it's still interesting to note that analyst predicted that The Sorcerer's Apprentice would take top seat this weekend at the box office because Inception seemed to "heady and vague" for the typical audiences. But instead The Sorcerer's Apprentice took third place, on it's opening weekend! Of course, Inception took first, but what was the second highest grossing film this past weekend? Despicable Me. And that film came out last weekend, before The Sorcerer's Apprentice. So what does this say about audience trends?
Of the few people I asked, no one knew that The Sorcerer's Apprentice was a remake, or rather a spin off, of Disney's Fantasia film. Since Fantasia, The Sorcerer's Apprentice has been remade several times on film and television. So basically, it's been done and despite the fact that Disney threw a ton of money at Jerry Bruckheimer to make an eye-popping special effect driven family flick, it's still doesn't appear inventive enough to be considered something "new and original". I admit, I didn't see The Sorcerer's Apprentice this weekend but truthfully, the trailers and the clips that I had seen of the film didn't appeal to me whatsoever. It looked like Harry Potter meets Mardi Gras, or The Last Airbender meets Every Bad Movie Nicholas Cage Has Done. From the trailers it looked like Nick Cage was just phoning it in and the script sounded like a string of hollow one liners. Nothing drew me to the film, and it's not because it's geared toward a younger audience. Harry Potter is basically a kid's flick but the trailer for the Deathly Hollows totally peaked my interest.
Now Inception on the other hand...well, to be fair, I'm a huge Christopher Nolan fan. Have been since Memento. So it was safe to say that as soon as I saw "written and directed by Christopher Nolan" I already knew three hours of my summer were going to be dedicated to this movie. And again, to be honest, Inception, didn't surprise me either. Why? Because I already knew before going into the theater that Inception was going to be a smart, creative, well acted, well directed, suspenseful, artful film that would be a hit with critics and audiences. And it was. But as I said, I knew that before hand and from the box office numbers of the Thursday midnight showings of Inception, it seems that a lot of people knew that too.
So again, what does that say about audiences? That maybe audiences are again flocking to films made by their favorite directors instead of who stars in the film or what studio produces the movie? That maybe audiences are actually paying more attention to smart marketing and passing over predictable film plots? That maybe audiences want to actually think when they watch a film? I think so. I think if this weekend proves anything to Hollywood it proves that bloated, glossed over Disney-like films cannot always be counted on to win the hearts of movie goers. It proves that audiences are fickle and even though sometimes they choose the dumbed down version of entertainment, if offered, sometimes they will go for quality. It proves that business and art can co-exist and that if you build it, they will come.
Now if only Christopher Nolan would cast Nicholas Cage in Batman 3, then finally he can get some decent work.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Couples do it. Friends do it. Even colleagues.
Going to see a film that you didn't really want to go see but you went anyway because someone else wanted to see it.
I did, last week. Saw The Karate Kid. I had no particular desire to see it. I loved the original, not because it was a good film but because I was a kid when it came out and I was enthralled with everything cinema. Regardless, the original Karate Kid was a classic because it was new and different; it had a spark that captured the awe of all young movie goers. And with Hollywood's recent obsession with reviving old films and television shows through less than stellar remakes, you can imagine how "stoked" I was when they announced the new Karate Kid. I was glad to see Jackie Chan getting work but I had no desire to see Jaden Smith act after seeing how cocky the kid was on talk shows. So, yeah, it was safe to, I didn't go in with high hopes.
The thing about remakes is that ultimately, you've already seen the movie. Maybe that's why the majority of remakes make a decent buck at the theaters. Movie goers already know, for the most part, what to expect. No one went into this year's remake of Nightmare on Elm Street expecting to see a romantic comedy and everyone knew that Willy Wonka was a little "Micheal Jackson" crazy when going to see Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. A cinematic remake is like having a romantic reconnection with an old flame; you already know what to expect and it seem strangely familiar. But...does that mean we should enjoy remakes? Better yet, is there artistic value in analyzing them?
There is a quote out there somewhere that says that every story that can ever be told has already been told, meaning that every since story since then is basically a varied iteration of an original idea. Or in other words, there ain't nothing new under the sun. So in theory this should mean that every film ever made is technically a remake or a rehashing of a particular theme that, in all probability, has been rehashed to death. Does this mean that film analysis is moot and should only apply to purely original content? Of course not. If that was the case, criticism of a story would have ended with the early Greeks.
So then we come back to The Karate Kid...and that cocky little movie star. I went in the theater feeling like somehow I was cheating on Ralph Macchio. And sitting there, watching as director Harald Zwart pulled inspiration from the original classic but in genius fashion set the film in the breath taking vistas of modern day China, I had reminiscent feelings of the 80s. Seeing Jackie Chan return to more serious acting chops that elevate him to the esteemed status he previously held in his old Hong Kong films of the 90s, of which I am a huge fan of, made me feel even more at ease. Then, when it was all said and done, and it turned out that the film actually took itself seriously and didn't pander to current cinematic trends, I had to admit to myself...I actually liked the movie. It wasn't perfect but it wisely avoided the missteps that current Hollywood remakes take. It was respectful of the source material and, perhaps more importantly, respectful to the inspiration behind the original story- martial arts. Even Jaden sort of grew on me, despite the fact that I cheered a little inside when he was getting the crap knocked out of him on screen. Still, he too took the film serious and I appreciated that.
Seriousness is something Hollywood sorely needs these days. But hey, at least it had the decency to not release this Karate Kid remake in 3-D. That would have killed it for me.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
How long is too long? (Thats what she said)
A friend of mine claims that "The Dark Knight" was a little too long; I, on the other hand, didn't want it to end. So what proceeded was a conversation on just how long is too long for the run time of a film.
I'm a film purist and I totally believe in the medium's ability to tell a compelling story. And telling a compelling story should not have a time limit. I believe filmmakers should take as much time as needed to tell the story they want to tell. Of course, this doesn't mean that a filmmaker should cram in as much story as possible simple because he can. Storytelling, or more specifically good storytelling, is an art and as such a storyteller should be as concise as possible to garner and sustain an audience's attention. Human beings, sadly, are not known for their tolerance of time consuming media, particularly now in the age of quick "bite size" entertainment. So a story, no matter what medium its told in, should be digestible for the average person ... but this doesn't have to be a rule.
Somewhere along the road of film's history an hour and a half to two hours became the norm for the length of an average movie. There have been exceptions to this norm over the years, but films of that nature are typically regulated to the "experimental" or "art" films genre. Take for instance, Andy Warhol's films "Sleep" and "Empire", which lasted five hours twenty minutes and eight hours five minutes respectively. These two films were basically experiments on the "long take" ("Sleep" consisted of five hours of a man sleeping and "Empire" was eight hours of the Empire State building at night) but their length tested the limits of what an audience would accept as a "viewable" film. Many would argue that the films being unwatchable was exactly the reaction Warhol was going for, however they retain their importance as prime examples that cinema, at it's very core, should not be bound by length. Of course it does say something when out of the nine people in the audience to watch Warhol's "Sleep", two left after the first hour. Apparently audiences want a concise story. Who would have thought.
A concise story, I believe, can be a film like "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King", which ran three hours and twenty minutes, which, in my opinion, did not run the risk of losing its audience because of length. I do however believe around three hours should be a "quasi" limit if a film is to be consumed in one sitting; I mean let’s be honest, who can sit still for longer than that to watch a film. I admit, I am irritated sometimes when a person dislikes a film purely on length alone; a friend argued that “The Matrix Revolutions” was unsuccessful because of its length. If a film's story isn't compelling enough to sustain the film's length, then yes length can be a deciding factor in critiquing a film badly; however judging a film because it tried your patience is something else. Films are not supposed to fit in nice neat boxes to please audiences; they are created to stand on their own and to be taken as is. No one ever criticizes the artwork of the Sistine Chapel as being "too much to take in at once" because of its immense detail. Its excepted simply as is.
Here's to hoping that one day we can break free of the lifestyle we've become accustomed to; the lifestyle of quick, easy gratification. There is something to be said for endurance and patience.What’s that old saying?
“The best things come to those who . . . watch.”
Send me a comment and let me know your thoughts on film as it pertains to the argument of length!